The Favor

Title: The Favor (3/4)

Author: ianthe_waiting

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.

Pairing: Hermione/Fred/George, mentions of Hermione/Ron.

Rating: NC-17/MA

Summary: Post-Hogwarts. Three years ago, Hermione asked a huge favor from the Weasley twins, and now they have come to collect what Hermione owes them in return.

Warnings: M/M/F, light Twincest, toys, oral, anal, spanking, some bondage and overall wickedness therefore, be warned... Also, some light HBP spoilers...

Genre: Somewhat romance, mostly smut and a reason to get Fred and George to be extremely naughty. ^_^ Gods, I love red heads!

Author\'s Notes: Still a bit of chatting up in this part, and some solo handiwork. *grin* And please keep it coming with the constructive criticism and encouragement! I am falling in love with all of you who have been so helpful and encouraging! Title of the chapter is a song by The Faint, highly recommended! Special thanks to my betas, SeductionsClaim and !

Part Three - \'Worked up so sexual...\'



Hermione had not thought too much about it at the time, it was only days after the trip to the Lion\'s Den did she realize what had begun between her and the Weasley twins. She began cataloging it all in her mind...first at Weasley\'s Wizard Wheezes when Fred had taken her hand, then Fred\'s hand on her shoulder after they had told her their plans... And the next day, George\'s heated gaze when she had come out of the Floo at the Leaky Cauldron. There were moments on the trip to the Lion\'s Den, when none of them had spoken as well. Weaving through the crowds in the tube station, George had placed his hand in the small of her back and Fred had a hold of her fingers. Again on the travel back to the Leaky Cauldron, George had brushed back a stray lock of Hermione\'s hair, his fingertips brushing against her cheek. And again, Fred tugging on her wrist to get her to stay for dinner...and all the gentle touches between, a warm hand lingering on her shoulder, a caress on the cheek, the sliding of fingers against the back of her palm and the guiding hand on her hip... Hermione felt like an idiot for not noticing it sooner...

But that night, as she sat stunned in the booth across from Fred and George, she was thinking of only two things: sex and murder.

Mustering her will power, Hermione swallowed the bloody saliva that had accumulated in her mouth and spoke.

\"You can both forget it, I\'m finished.\"

She had said it, but as she waited for some loud reaction from the Weasley twins, she wondered if she had really meant what she had said... Hermione\'s life, her lack of a love life, and her constant search for something to soothe her sexual frustrations, all of it, had her torn between whether to share these things with anyone. In fact, it was because she had not shared herself with anyone else, her body\'s reactions were a separate entity from her logical mind. Hermione Granger was slowly losing control. Oh, how she had prided herself with her steely resolve during her years at Hogwarts, the voice of reason. She had prided herself on being so strong when the darkest days of the War were destroying the spirits of the ones she cared about the most. No one ever worried about plain, reliable Hermione and she never complained even when she could feel her own spirit beginning to falter under the strain of the responsibilities she knew she had laid upon her own shoulders. But now...the War was over, she was a Professor at Hogwarts, and her ironclad facade of strength and sensibility was crumbling under Fred and George Weasley\'s calm blue gaze.

The distant clamor and din of the pub was the only thing Hermione was conscious of hearing besides the sound of her own heart pounding in her ears. George sat back in the booth, glancing at his brother and then to Hermione, his usual warm and laughing demeanor gone and replaced by cold calculation. Fred\'s jaw was set, his eyes upon the empty tankard between his elbows.

Hermione\'s heart rate was like that of a hummingbird at that point, her chest beginning to hurt, her head beginning to ache.

\"Just a few moments, and then...\" George said softly, crossing his arms before his wide chest.

\"...You can forget all about this night, about us, about the favor, if you like,\" Fred finished, also sitting back in the booth.

Hermione blinked.

\"You are some woman, Hermione Jane Granger...\" George whispered to himself, licking his lips hastily, removing his eyes from the trickle of nervous sweat that ran from her throat down to the depression between her collarbones.

\"We\'re not asking you to demonstrate, you know,\" Fred interjected, his voice switching from the utmost seriousness to his usual joking chuckle.

Hermione swallowed thickly, they were trying as gently as they could to convince her...and it was working. She slowly shut her eyes, unable to look at the two brothers any longer without blurting out something she knew she would regret. Half of the inner Hermione who was vying for control was dressed in furs and pelts, bare breasted with blood painting her face and her juices running down her thighs was screaming at the prim and proper Hermione. The other half of Hermione which was her logical thought, was blatantly ignoring the uncouth half of her personality...

The bestial and instinctual side of Hermione was controlling her body, causing her heart to pound, her skin to prickle with sweat and her pussy to swell with juices that had now soaked her knickers completely through. It was that side of Hermione Granger that wanted to laugh at Fred\'s words and gladly volunteer to demonstrate for the Weasley twins. This same side of Hermione wanted to feel flesh against her flesh, flesh inside her flesh, burn away the ache in her loins and ride both young men until they screamed for mercy. And then, quite coherently, the instinctual voice seemed to remind her that Fred and George Weasley both probably knew how to pleasure a woman, unlike their younger brother...

All the while the logical side was sobbing and rocking with her knees tucked under her chin in some remote corner of Hermione\'s brain...

The wild Hermione spoke again, also telling her that if she were not able to actually have the twins, she could always go home and spend the entire weekend playing her solo games and dreaming…

\"I will help you, but you have to promise me that no one...absolutely no one will ever know why I was seen with the two of you in this pub, in muggle London or in your shop. And no one will ever know who had helped you with this business venture,\" Hermione said coldly, her eyes still closed but her fingers massaging the bridge of her nose as if to massage away a headache. And slowly she opened her eyes to see Fred and George smiling widely.



\"Deal.\"



* * *



Hermione could have laughed at the covert way that she and the Weasley twins had left the Leaky Cauldron. Fred had cast a Disillusionment charm on all three of them, and as they tugged her along by the wrist and down Diagon Alley she realized that the twins were going to be very sure to keep their promise to never let anyone know of Hermione\'s involvement in the Wanton Witch prospect. Sliding between an unnoticeable gap between 91 and 93 Diagon Alley, Hermione watched in amused silence as George tapped his wand against the brick wall of 93 Diagon Alley, muttering words too low for Hermione to hear. In the darkness of the gap, Hermione\'s eyes just caught the sight of the brick wall melting into a heavy metal door.

Pulling the door open, George motioned for Hermione to enter and as she did candles and lamps lit at the entrance and she realized that she was in the parlor in the back of Fred and George\'s shop, standing just under the wooden staircase that led to the apartments above. Fred and George moved past her, closing the door and letting it melt back into a brick wall. Fred cast a \'Finite Incantatem\' on the group\'s disillusionment charm and moved through the parlor.

\"A hidden door...we made it when the War was on and wanted a concealed entrance and exit,\" George explained, moving across the parlor to the table before the fireplace. As Fred began pulling the shrunken packages out of his jeans pocket, George charmed the table to enlarge, making the chairs scrape against the tiled floor, as the table became twice its original size.

Hermione was panting in anticipation as the twins enlarged the six bags back to their original size and began setting out each purchase, one by one on the table. Hermione swallowed thickly and set her small messenger bag on one of the armchairs, pulling out her wand and holding it like a useless piece of vine wood and dragon heartstring and not a magical item at all. Hermione\'s inner selves had fallen quite silent, but the damage was done and she realized that she had been rubbing her thighs together all the while she had been standing in the Weasley twins\' parlor...and now that the Disillusionment charm had ended, she was sure that the twins had noticed.

\"Alright, your turn, Hermione,\" George called to her, smiling wickedly and stepping back from the table.

Hermione squeaked and mechanically walked to the table, her eyes hesitant to even look at all the sexual paraphernalia on the tabletop. Her body was tensed and when Fred stepped next to her, wrapping his arm about her shoulders, Hermione nearly collapsed against him. She turned her face toward his neck, her nose only coming to the base of his throat, and she inhaled. He smelled of sandalwood and musk, masculine, a trace of sweat and the sweet scent of butterbeer from his lips.

\"We basically know what all of this is...um...what it is used for and to what affect, but what we want to know is it what women would perhaps buy. I think Fred picked up some things that would not be something any woman would want to put in their bodies,\" George snickered, glancing at his brother who seemed to hold his breath, as Hermione was obviously smelling him. \"We want a woman\'s point of view.\"

Hermione blinked and pulled away from Fred. She knew that if she lingered any longer close to Fred Weasley he would eventually be violently stripped of his clothes and thoroughly ravished. Her self-control was at a minimum... Instead of pondering any longer on how delicious Fred seemed to smell, she stepped closer to the table and cast her eyes downward to all the wonderful toys...and another rush of hot dampness washed through Hermione\'s loins.

Biting her lip fiercely, her eyes alighted upon an expensive set of nipple clamps called \'clover\' clamps and Hermione sighed.

\"These clamps,\" Hermione croaked, her voice beginning to falter from all the urges running through her mind, pointing to the clamps, but not touching them, \"...are a little too much for beginners. These tighten when you pull upon the chain and the pressure is not adjustable. As aesthetically pleasing as they are, simple tweezer clamps are a bit better.\"

Hermione moved to her left, her eyes moving over the objects, it was her clinical observation that was arousing her mentally as it was physically. She could feel the twins watching her. The candles on the mantle of the fireplace on the other side of the table was illuminating the table like a Muggle window display.



She slowly pointed to several small packaged objects and smiled slightly, \"These are handy, mini-vibrators...all of which require muggle batteries. If you have prototypes of the type of vibrator I gave Ginny, you will know what spells are necessary to make the toy live up to its name. But these small ones are nice for travel and are discreet. Be sure to make the vibrator as silent as possible, especially with these smaller models. Most women want something very quiet, with adjustable speeds of vibration and something they can discreetly tuck in the pockets of their robes. I suspect you\'ll find the mini-vibrators popular since they are not as innocuous as the larger versions... And this one,\" Hermione grinned, now becoming quite talkative and excited, pointed to a particular finger vibrator, exactly like one she owned, \"...is very nice. It has interchangeable sleeves, which I find very fun...\"

Hermione stopped herself for a moment, realizing what she had said, but for some reason as she moved a bit around the corner of the table to the other side, it all did not seem to matter. It was almost like talking about magical theory or recommending a good book...



Hermione commented on several other items, most of which were in her private collection, the shortcomings and benefits of each. Glancing out the corner of her eye, she felt a strange sense of pride to see Fred and George watching her from behind a pad of paper and a Quick-Quotes quill. They were watching her with what she considered to be fascination and maybe a little bit of awe...but more than anything she noticed that they were still holding the plastic bags with the words \'thank you for your patronage\' before them instead of disposing of the bags or leaving them on the floor. She wondered if they were just so interested in what she had to say and forgotten they were holding the bags in front of themselves or if it were something else.

Moving on, Hermione began again, pointing out the cons of anal beads made with cord as opposed to plastic graduated beads, pointing out that G-spot ticklers were probably going to be popular and reiterating what Warren said about some lubricants being too harsh for certain skin types. Commenting on the various functions of a dual action vibrator, chuckling to herself by calling it a \'jack rabbit,\' Hermione finally finished by way of lecturing that muggle aphrodisiacs were basically expensive mixtures of cheap animal pheromones and that wizarding love potions and aphrodisiacs were the \'real deal.\'

Falling silent, with nothing more to really say on the matter...Hermione felt a sudden embarassed horror creep up in her mind, bashing both the logical and instinctual inner selves in the head. Her embarrassment had quashed her libido as quickly as if she had thought of Minerva McGonagall in a string bikini. Hermione did not know what to do with her hands that were now shaking, nearly dropping her wand, so she tucked her wand in her pocket, mentally picturing Mad-Eye Moody twirling like a dervish in his grave and grumbling about blasted off buttocks, and shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans.



Her eyes cast to the floor, she listened as Fred and George muttered to each other, and then canceled the charm on the Quick-Quotes quill. Hermione took a breath, anticipating either twin to speak, but was a bit flummoxed as they began separating the items on the table, Fred actually humming to himself as he did so.

Hermione took the opportunity to move back across the parlor to retrieve her bag, shove her wand inside and slip the strap of her bag over her shoulder. She wondered if she could make a quick escape, make it outside and apparate back to Hogsmeade, get totally sloshed, go home, and try and forget everything that had happened that day. But as she began edging to the door leading out into the shop, George\'s voice stopped her.

\"You can use the Floo to the Three Broomsticks,\"

With a sigh, Hermione nodded, her jaw set and her hands clasping the strap of her bag as if clinging to a lifeline. Fred cleared the table and returned it to its usual size, having placed the items back in the bags and set them against the back of the couch. He smiled at Hermione as she moved to the hearth, noticing a pot of Floo powder in a small metal rack bolted to the fireplace.

\"You\'ve helped us out more than you know, \'Mione,\" Fred commented, resting a hand on her shoulder before she could grab a handful of powder. Hermione refused to look at Fred\'s face, but nodded quietly, reaching for the powder.

\"Your favor is fulfilled.\"

Hermione nodded again, as Fred cast a spell for fire in the grate and Hermione threw the powder in. \"The Three Broomsticks, Hogsmeade!\" and disappeared in a flourish of green flame.





* * *





When she was walking through the Three Broomsticks she was not as nearly tempted to join her fellow professors for their Friday night drink as she usually was...Hermione had not thought that she might run into Minerva McGonagall, Pomona Sprout, and Filius Flitwick, and she avoided them even though they were slurring her name as they called to her. No, Hermione did not want to indulge in the graces of her colleagues, she was beginning to resent their pity for her lack of a love life, and she did not want to think about theirs.

Hermione nearly ran all the way to the gates of Hogwarts and into her chambers, slamming doors, waking portraits and cursing at Mrs. Norris whom she nearly tripped over in the Entrance Hall on the way to her rooms. Once inside, Hermione drew out her wand and began magically undressing, summoning out her small trunk of toys, lighting candles and transfiguring her bed clothes from red linens to black. And by the time she made it to her bed and flopped down on the mattress, several toys were levitating around the bed for her to choose from.

She lay on the bed, setting her wand near her right side and stared up the black bed curtains.

\"Bugger it all...\" she muttered, realizing she was more disappointed than angry. Hermione was disappointed that she had not acted on her instincts to just throw herself at Fred and George...

Taking a deep breath, Hermione sighed deeply, smacking her palm against her forehead. Her libido was wide awake again and her toys bobbed about the bed waiting for her to begin picking and choosing which to use...

\"...A man...I could use a man...or men...\" she mumbled, letting her left hand trail away from her forehead, her fingertips grazing her heated skin, down her jaw to her throat. Focusing on the sensation of her touch alone, Hermione let her right hand run over the slight swell of her belly, over her hip bone and toward the small unshaven patch of curls just above her clit. Her left hand traced her right collarbone, moving slowly downward to the mound of her right breast. Even though her hands were small, Hermione knew that her breasts were even too round for Ron\'s large paws to hold. Quickly licking the tips of her left index and middle fingers, Hermione traced a spiraling circle around her breast, ending at her nipple, which was at that point was pebbled and the aureole puckered. Twirling the fingers of her right hand in the hair above her clit, Hermione let her fingers trail over the lips of her outer labia, feeling that her dampness had spread so far out of her body that even the insides of her thighs were a bit sticky.

Closing her amber eyes, Hermione shifted her hips to spread her knees, alternating from pinching to twisting her right nipple. A hum rose up in Hermione\'s chest and passed her lips as a moan. Abandoning her breast, Hermione grasped at her wand and opened her eyes. Where to start?

Flicking her wand, the small finger vibrator that was a twin to the one she had commented on to Fred and George, floated in range of Hermione\'s reach. Carelessly dropping her wand on the bed, Hermione grasped the toy and whispered a near silent \'vibrate\' to the toy, like whispering to a lover and the toy began to pulse in her hand. Moving the toy to her right hand, slipping her finger into the gap, she lowered it toward the apex of her thighs. Using her left hand, Hermione spread her outer labia wide, the cool air against her molten flesh making her shiver slightly.

Hermione threw her head back into the mattress as she lowered the toy to her clit, not quite touching it, but the air off the vibrations of the ribbed sleeve attachment sent violent shudders up and down Hermione\'s body. Curling her toes into the duvet, Hermione tapped at her clit with the toy, a hoarse groan echoing through in her room like a desperate cry.

\"...Fuck...\" Hermione swore, biting her lip as she pressed the toy to her clit and quickly tensed. She could feel her blood rushing away from her brain and to her lower regions at a rate akin to light-speed. Circling her clit, Hermione\'s hips bucked and she held her breath. She knew she had been so close to coming in her jeans when she was about to leave Fred and George\'s that it would not take much to coax a climax out of her betraying body.

Vision dimming, Hermione could only see stars as her body convulsed like that in a fit and she came with a careening cry of completion. She took the vibrator off her clit, trying in vain to catch her breath. Her vaginal muscles felt as if they were trying to grasp at something that was not there, her abdominal muscles shivered and shuddered, and her heart was beating a furious tattoo against her ribs.

Feeling sweat gather at the small of her back, Hermione turned on her left side and curled in a fetal position, her heart beginning to quiet and her breathing beginning to become easier. A minute passed, perhaps five and Hermione could feel her pussy weeping juices that ran down the backs of her thighs and into the velvety texture of the duvet...she needed to be filled and perhaps afterwards she could sleep soundly...

Hermione struggled to her hands and knees, snapping her head back, letting sweaty curls of hair shower down between her shoulder blades. She stretched, mimicking what she had remebered dearly missed Crookshanks doing perhaps a million or so times in his long feline/kneezle life. And with a sigh she moved across the bed to grasp her favorite toy of all...the clear jelly plastic of a dildo she liked to call the \'Dominator.\'

The Dominator was a seven-inch long dildo that she had bespelled to move at a spoken command in a variable thrusting motion. And quickly she wondered if Fred and George Weasley would develop their own charm for one of their marketable toys. Sitting on her haunches, she smiled to herself, albeit evilly, thinking that she could sell the charm to the twins...

Pushing any more logical pondering from her mind, Hermione moved across the bed again on her hands and knees. Leaning forward she twisted her body so that her left cheek rested against the bed and her right hand, holding the Dominator was free. Licking her lips, Hermione ran the soft jelly tip of the dildo over the curve of her ass. Flexing her wrist she ran the tip from her perineum to her clit, spreading her wet and musky essence along her slit. Humming an appreciative moan, Hermione placed the tip just outside her canal and began pushing the head inside. Clenching her buttocks together she held the Dominator in place and tucked her arm under her upraised hips.

\"Dominate me...\" she said in almost a whisper, never quite expecting what would happen next.

With a slight wince, the enchanted toy penetrated her fully, and slowly began thrusting in and out of Hermione\'s body. She pressed her flushed face into the duvet, stifling a soft whimper. The dildo was as long as Ron, but a bit wider in girth. Hermione had always wished Ron had been a bit wider and not so long...length was just something she remembered Lavender talking avidly about during her schooldays, inconsequential to a certain extent, and something that Hermione wondered if men worried much about at all... It was part technique and foreplay that was important in Hermione\'s mind, and Ron had failed miserably on both accounts.

The Dominator began picking up speed, as it had been bespelled to do, and Hermione began thrusting back. It really was a brilliant work of charms that had enabled her to experience the basic mechanics of sex without a partner. But she knew that a partner in the flesh would be much more preferred.

Slipping her right hand between her legs, Hermione began rubbing her clit furiously, the thrusting becoming more and more intense, uniform and slightly lacking in what she felt she needed. But she was panting rhythmically with the thrusts, sweat beading on her brow, her lips dry from expelling hot breath from her mouth. Ascending up the slippery slope toward climax, Hermione moved her fingers from her clit, around her body, to tease her anus with her wet digits, enjoying the sensations her nerve endings were sending to her brain and back down to her pussy.

Juices trickling like a slow flood, Hermione raised her upper body with her left arm, throwing her head back and thrusting against the toy, wishing with every fiber of her being that there was a warm body for her ass to slap against and not air... The Dominator was pumping away at her pussy, the wet movement of jelly plastic and juices creating a damp squishing noise.

In and out, back and forth, Hermione felt the muscles in her lower belly tense and she screamed out her glory of climax, her vaginal walls contracting so violently that the dildo was forced out of her to fall to the mattress, the charm over when contact with her flesh was terminated. Hermione moaned as she fell to her right side, clutching her spasming pussy with both hands, riding out the last waves of her orgasm.

As mind blowing and intense as it all had been...Hermione felt the emptiness in her heart grow. She was the only one in her bed, and her toys only brought temporary reprieve to her more immediate sexual needs. But the flesh was sated, and after Hermione felt she could move, she twisted on the bed to grab her wand. A few incantations later her toys were cleaned and replaced in their chest, locked and hidden; her skin was cleaned and the bed turned down. With the last bit of her remaining strength she climbed under the covers and \'Nox\'ed the candles. After a few moments, letting the spasms in her lower belly pass, Hermione shut her eyes and fell into a lonely, gray dream.





* * *



Term had been in full swing and the Halloween feast soon approaching when a vaguely familiar owl dropped a package in Professor Hermione Granger\'s lap. Hermione, who was used to getting packages from her parents, friends and Flourish and Blotts, thought little of the package as large as a small tome sitting in her lap. With a sigh and glance at the Slytherin table where Nelson Skaggs was flicking bits of toast into Daisy Parkinson\'s hair, Hermione began to open the brown paper bound package. And as she pushed back the paper, Hermione let a small gasp pass her lips and quickly wrapped the package back up tightly. With a few quick mutterings to Headmistress McGonagall who sat on her left and Professor Flitwick who sat at her right, Hermione departed from the staff table, her robes flapping in a dramatic flourish reminiscent of her predecessor.

Jogging as quickly as she could to her chambers, she threw the package in the middle of her bed and stood panting near the door to the bedroom, eyeing the parcel disdainfully.


\"How dare they!\" she growled.

Realizing she only had ten minutes to make it to the dungeon classroom from the faculty tower, Hermione fled from the room, warding the doors doubly, trying to push the very thought of what she had seen under the brown paper wrapping from her head.


Setting on the bed, obscured by plain brown paper was a small black lacquer box...with the words \'Wanton Witch\' scrolled into the wood with gold leaf and a small sheaf of paper with the message written in copperplate hand: \'To our best beta tester...\'